Princess Willowyn's Arc

Chapter 4 of 70

Aela's word hung in the room. Run away. Willowyn stared at the dark forest beyond the walls. Then she looked down at her thin silver gown and soft slippers. She had never spent one night outside these towers. She did not know how to build a fire or find food. The truth settled cold in her chest. "I want to go," Willowyn said. "But I would not last a night out there." She held up her hands. "I can bend water. I cannot skin a rabbit. I cannot find shelter in the rain." Aela did not laugh. She crossed to the fox and knelt. The green fur shifted, vines curling along its back. "Then don't run tonight," Aela said. "Run when you are ready." She looked up. "I can teach you. Knots. Traps. How to read the moss for water. I learned it all in the training yard." Willowyn sat beside her. "Teach me now, then. Everything you can." Aela pulled a length of cord from her belt. She showed Willowyn how to tie a snare and how to loop a line for climbing. She named the plants that filled a stomach and the plants that killed. Willowyn's fingers fumbled. She tied the knot wrong four times. On the fifth try, it held. They worked until the candles burned low. Aela drew a rough map on the back of a letter. She marked a stream, a ridge, a village half a day out. "Water there," Aela said, tapping the stream. "You can always find water. That is your gift." Willowyn looked at the map. Something shifted in her. The wild had frightened her because it was unknown. Now it had shapes. A stream. A ridge. A place to sleep. The fox pressed its head against her knee, and she rested her hand in its warm fur. "I will not go tonight," Willowyn said. "But I will not stay forever. I will learn until I can survive out there. Then I will leave, and I will not ask her." Aela smiled and squeezed her shoulder. "Now you sound ready." She gathered the cord and slipped the map under Willowyn's pillow. "Practice the knots. I will come back tomorrow night with more." She rose and moved to the door. "Sleep, Willowyn. You have work now." The door closed. Willowyn sat alone with the fox and the low candlelight. She felt the cord still pressed into her palm. For the first time, the plan was real. Not a wish. A path with steps she could take. She blew out the last candle. The pale stone walls of the great mossy keep held her one more night, but they no longer felt like a cage. They felt like a place she was preparing to leave. She lay her head on the pillow, the map beneath it, the fox curled at her side. Her thoughts slowed. Sleep pulled her down, and she went willingly.